


Yet, The Universe Still Sings

by AmputeeTrainee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, Joiner's Perspective, Killiks, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmputeeTrainee/pseuds/AmputeeTrainee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We have only ever known her as Agent. She is violent, dangerous, and although we may never fully know Cipher 9, we know our place is by her side. | Vector’s perspective on the IA storyline as he gradually falls in love with his DS!Agent. W.I.P. Rating will go up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The Assassin's Prize and Complications**

Deep within the Oroboro nest Vector stood frozen, dark eyes staring unblinkingly ahead. Though he saw nothing but the wall of the cave, distant images and sounds flooded his senses, as though he were part of the far away battle and not merely a mental witness. Through the many eyes of his small flying brethren, he watched as a torrent of blaster fire streamed out the open doors of House Cortess, bolts nearly striking the two sprinting figures dashing for their lives across the massive courtyard. The mission was in jeopardy. Had Agent's cover been blown?

The tiny, fly-sized Killiks dared to travel no further. They flew high above, circling like black clouds as they rode on thermal currents just beyond the gate of the royal house. Through them, Vector silently observed as Cipher 9 and her companion began to cut a bloody swath through Cortess' guards as they fled. Blaster fire sang. Sparks flew. Enemy auras flared and burst apart like miniature supernovas in their final death throes.

A stray blaster bolt clipped Cipher's side, knocking her onto the pavement. The Rattataki scowled at the gunner who had shot her companion and leaped at him with rockets engaged, balled fist ready to strike. However, the gunner seemed to anticipate a counterattack. When the alien woman landed, he smacked the butt of his blaster cannon across the side of her face. The Rattataki's grey head whipplashed to the side and she stumbled backward dazed and bloodied.

As the scene played through his mind, Vector felt his lips tug down. He was momentarily pleased with his body's innate muscle memory. Gesticulation in the nest was subtle, complex and rendered many facial displays unnecessary; most humanoid expressions had been forgotten. A verse in the Song of the Universe soured though, overshadowing Vector's small moment of happiness.

If Agent failed—and it seemed like a growing possibility—no help would arrive. Presently, he could offer the women no aid. The generators powering the shield made any direct assault on House Cortess impossible, and the Killiks would not attack without support, fearing the genocidal retribution of the royals. He watched Agent—now on her feet with red staining her right side—prepare to throw a flash grenade at a second gunner who had wandered into the fray, drawn by the sound of blaster fire. The odds were looking grim. His frown deepened.

Touching steepled fingers to the center of his forehead, Vector disrupted the connection to quiet the discord; he did not wish to watch the women die outnumbered and alone. The bond dimmed to a distant buzz, the information reachable but purposely ignored for the moment. An unfortunate turn of events. Shame, the mission had held promise.

The nagging tug of a hundred little voices murmured mutely, attempting to gain his attention. Vector ignored the call. The nest had an insatiable sense of curiosity, especially when it came to death and the dying. It wasn't usual for the Killik Gathers to bring back wounded animals and individuals, not to perform a Joining but rather to hear and remember their last song before recycling the remains. The nest pitied creatures who died alone, unable to comprehend what it was like to suffer a solitary death. The inquisitiveness was beautiful and kind, as the dying song would be remembered, but it was also sorrowful. He could not watch today.

It wasn't until the Song of Welcome began that Vector willingly reopened the bond to its fullest, curious as to who the nest could be singing salutations too. Immediately, a multitude of images swirled through his mind in a storm. The flow of information was unrestrained and unorganized, like a datapad full of files being tossed in his lap; the Kind's way of scolding him for not heeding their call the first time. Collecting the different perspectives, he began to weave the memories into a cohesive event:

_Blood. The screams of dying men. Grenades exploding in brilliant halos of fire. Agent stabbing herself in the thigh with a kolto injection, needle cap stuck between gritted teeth. Red, furious sparks igniting the air. The Rattataki yelling insults as she wiped away the blood running into her eyes from the bruising slice on her forehead. Auras burning bright and hot. Agent calmly taking aim; a hole appearing in the center of a gunner's forehead, his aura rupturing into nothingness as he pitched forward. Running and gasping, the women sprinted to the waiting speeder beyond the gate. Agent leaped on the machine grabbing for the handlebars while her companion jumped on behind and wrapped an arm around Cipher's waist. They were off zooming over the dirt, the Rattataki firing her blaster pistol with her free hand until the vehicle raced beyond the hill and House Cortess was out of sight._

How unexpected, he had misjudged their tenacity. The song rose in volume, welcoming Cipher 9 and her companion as they skidded to a halt at the mouth of the cave. Vector went to receive them, able to scent them before they came into view. The sulfuric stench of grenade smoke and the metallic tang of spilled blood clung to the women, wafting into the cave and permeating the nest with the smell of battle. Agent came striding toward him with the Rattataki following directly behind.

"Our observers saw what happened. Why did Cortess turn on you? How can we help?" he asked.

"Turns out Baroness Chay is working with the terrorists," Agent informed.

"The Baroness? This is…unexpected," he replied calmly.

They started to formulate a plan as Agent tended to herself and her companion. Cipher listened, engaging in conversation even as she grabbed the Rattataki by the chin, cleaned the weeping slice on the woman's forehead, and smeared kolto gel across the ruptured skin with the pad of her thumb. The Rattataki complained, pushing away hands that only returned to continue the treatment, insisting that she'd had worse. However, Agent's stern expression and flaring aura left little room for argument. The women seemed familiar with each other, their scents mingled.

The Hive was abuzz with news from the recent skirmish and sang excitedly, seeing an opportunity in the sudden turn of events. Synapses tingling like electric currents, Vector was flooded with information about the disloyal house. The Hive illustrated what to do. The soft creatures of House Cortess—those like himself—had come and built gigantic beasts of metal and electricity, the generators. Like a fly on a wall, he could see the Cortess facility and the mechanisms housed within as though he had been there before. In a sense he had, Killik spies had infiltrated the building long ago.

The Kind disliked machinery, found it's cold taste and hollow songs discomforting, but their senses discovered a weakness in the royal's defenses. The pliable wires and hair-thin electrodes within the generators were akin to a circulatory system. Killik fingerlings could easily destroy the internal components, leaving Cortess vulnerable. Normally, Vector wasn't one for an aggressive rebuttal, but House Cortess had proven to be traitors to the Empire. Primal reasons came to him as well and reverberated in his skull as the Hive's needs were sung: expand, grow, be fruitful and multiply. He attempted to subdue the base logic of the Hive as he described to the women the best course of action, explaining how Agent and himself could carry in the fingerlings and wreak havoc on the delicate machinery. Still, the primal thoughts lingered.

"You're will'n to fry some of your little buddies to help us out, huh? Touching sacrifice. Makes me wonder why the nest knows so much about Cortess' defenses in the first place," the Rattataki mused aloud.

"We've been studying Cortess for some time. We've been thorough, " he replied monotonously.

The partial truth seemed sufficient; gray lips curled upward at his words, but the expression wasn't kind. Vector silently watched the dim, dark mauve and gray electromagnetic aura fluctuate in tight, even waves around the Rattataki. Kaliyo Djannis. Underneath the grit of battle, her true scent was evident: acrid and biting like pickled space worm. It stung his nose—as it had during their first meeting—and left a sour taste in his mouth. Despite Kaliyo's skepticism of him and the Kind, she seemed to consider the mission at hand a farce having joked about stealing the Barron's prized beasts earlier.

Cipher 9 seemed less troubled by his extensive knowledge of House Cortess. She listened to him, alert eyes scanning his face as he relayed what the Hive knew. The brown of her irises gave off a muted spectrum, faintly he could make out a circular line along her white sclera. Unlike her companion, Agent smelled of honeyed spice similar to the gold membrosia brewed by the Kind: sweet, heady, and distracting.

"So, miniature saboteur bugs, is it?" Cipher questioned, stroking her chin as curious yellow sparks flickered through her aura in thought.

"Yes, there are times when smaller bodies prove useful," he admitted.

"Very well," she agreed after a moment of consideration, "I assume you're ready to back me up?"

"Yes," Vector said inclining his head, "if you allow us to fetch the fingerings and our effects quickly."

She nodded once and turned to speak to her companion as he excused himself. The women's voices vibrated against the chambers of the nest as he headed deeper into the cave to gather his equipment. Although the spongy propolis covering the stone absorbed most of the sound, the gift of heightened hearing allowed him to understand scant bits of the Rattataki's loud words.

"Freaky…bug-brain…outta here," Kaliyo's voice echoed distantly.

Vector returned—with a pocket full of fingerlings and his Killik vibrostaff in hand—to find Agent seated by the entrance of the cave alone. Her wounds had vanished and the minty, tingling scent of kolto hung in the air. Back to him, she sat cross-legged fiddling with the equipment in her lap. Agent must have heard his approach because she turned to spare him a glance, one eye now a burning orange. The iris seemed to glow in the shade of the cave's mouth. Agent greeted him with a silent nod and returned to her work. He neared and saw the small vials of cosmetics lying on the side of her thigh.

"At your service," he prompted.

"I see, give me a moment," she replied.

"Your companion is absent," he noted. The Rattataki's bitter scent still remained, but no trace of her aura could be found; "She was welcomed to stay here, it shouldn't take us long to disable the generators."

"She'll be fine. Off to steal the Barron's prized thrantas I imagine," Agent said, indicating that Kaliyo had not been joking.

He watched as fingers deftly plucked the hololens from her other eye before placing the contact into a container. Agent then rubbed her face with a piece of white cloth, dark beige streaks were left behind on the material.

"May we inquire as to what you are doing?" he asked politely, as time was off the essence.

"I don't need to look the part of a noble anymore," she answered simply and began to pack the supplies away into the pockets of her utility belt. Rising to her feet, she turned to look at him and continued, "Besides, it's time House Cortess saw the true face of the Empire."

Without any enhancement, shadows made razors of prominent cheekbones and bled purple circles under sharp eyes. The discolored complexion could be attributed to insomnia or stress, not uncommon ailments among those deployed in the field. However, the eerie orange of Agent's eyes betrayed the underlying cause. Not unusual characteristics for those who directly interacted with the Sith.

He remembered seeing a similar effect take place in colleagues during his years of formal education at the Imperial Diplomatic Academy. Admittedly, the memories of that time were hazy, but for persons in the Imperial Service such a transition wasn't considered uncommon. Being dutiful to the Empire required sacrifice, as he was well versed having traded much of his humanity to pursue diplomatic relations for the sake of the Empire. Duty came before self though Vector didn't consider his exchange a detriment, rather the opposite.

Still, the change her brush with the force caused wasn't terribly drastic and her attempts to conceal were futile. To him, Cipher's aura remained the same and bared her song to the universe in brilliant color. No matter what cosmetics she applied, few things could conceal the truths the Hive revealed.

A dark, crimson sphere of influence radiated from the core or her body. It burned in an oblong shape—a common trait among all humanoids—from the crown of the head and ended at the center of her pelvis. Red transitioned outward like a setting sun, turning into a misty orange field. Her aura, like all others, spanned in an arms-length around her on all sides and ended in a light orange corona. Like the lines of a magnetic field, the corona dipped inwards slightly at the top of head and bottom of her feet. He noticed yellow sparks, not unlike Alderaanian glowbugs, also shimmered through the field of her aura frequently, as they did now.

"You're staring," Agent noted with a slow-growing smile, "appreciate the change?"

Her voice was different, higher and more lilting than when they'd been formulating their plan. He didn't know what to make of it.

"To us you appear much as you did before, your aura and pheromones are unchanged," he answered truthfully.

"Excuse me?"

"Apologizes, we have been of the nest long time and forget that the signals we detect are often unidentifiable to others. To another, the transition might be more startling," Vector explained.

"Startling," she repeated, seeming to taste the word. Her lips turned down.

"Is our assessment offensive?" he asked.

"It wasn't what I was expecting," she answered and turned away to walk toward the speeder.

He wondered if he had insulted her, but the sphere of her aura remained unmoved. Nimbly, she sat on the speeder and Vector followed taking his place behind her, just as her Rattataki companion had done. Agent reached to start the vehicle but paused to glance at him, noticing he had scooted back to the far edge of the seat.

"Kaliyo holds my waist, you know," she said giving him a torrid glance, "keeps her steady."

The mellifluous scent her pores emitted seemed more pungent, and he was unsure what to say. Her heated gaze was making him uncomfortable, and Vector felt certain he was missing important social cues. He had wrongly assumed Agent would be straightforward during their mission, as she had appeared to be just moments before.

"We'll keep that in mind," he said and considered holding his breath instead to keep the sweetness from addling his senses, as he hadn't dealt with unaltered humans directly in a long time.

Orange eyes settled on him and Vector realized she was searching for emotional tells; his blank face offered none. The burning warmth in her gaze extinguished and went cold, like flipping a switch. The taste of frost hung in the air as blue sparks peppered through her field. When Agent spoke again her words were blunt, voice flat; reminiscent of how she had acted previously.

"The Killiks don't let you out of the nest much do they? Hold on," she ordered, grabbing his hand and putting it on the jut of her pelvis threatening, "if you fall off down a ravine I won't go back."

He wondered why she hadn't simply said that before. With care and respect, he took hold of her other hip.

"Understood," Vector inclined his head, "please be more direct with us in the future."

They were off in an instant, racing over the fragrant, sun-drenched grasses toward House Cortess' generators. He forgot to hold his breath, but Agent's full-throttle style of driving left him breathless after the first hairpin turn anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is gonna be a weird story. I really tried to understand how the world might look through a Joiner's eyes.  
> 2\. None of the crew ever know Cipher 9's name in the cannon, so she'll be Agent throughout the story. I've read some IA fiction too and haven't seen anyone forgo a name either and figured I'd give it a try. What's in a name anyway?  
> 3\. Aura colors and shape are loosely based off reiki. I wrote a guide for it, when I finish it I'll make a link.  
> 4\. Propolis (bee glue) is a resinous mixture honey bees collect from organic sources--trees buds, sap, and the like--and use it to make seal unwanted gaps in the hive. Killiks propolis is similar but sticker, stronger, and is used to build and line nests and mounds. Also, its composition changes depending on the botanical sources the host plant has. It'll be mentioned again later. I supplemented the Killik wiki with information about bees for substance, so you'll see more bee references.  
> 5\. Flirting makes Vector uncomfortable and he sucks at it right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Fall of the House of Cortess**

" _The Hive is secure. The injured will be tended to and transformed, the dead will feed the larvae,_ "  _Vector informed._

" _Couldn't have happened to a nicer family,_ " _Agent remarked, glancing at the gathering insectoids._

_"They will become valued members of the nest."_

The memory of the conversation between them was fresh and its song was sung and shared throughout the Hive on repeat. Today had been a victory. However, the more Vector considered her words, the more facetious Agent sounded. Joining the Killiks was usually considered abhorrent to other species. It was doubtful she considered the transformation a positive. Those that did not know the joy of sharing one mind often feared what they did not understand. Yet, when he glanced at her, the bright yellow sparks that flitted through the field of her aura seemed to indicate interest rather than disgust. That much he could understand, but the exact intent of the sparks he could not. Still, she didn't appear to find his brethren unbearably grotesque.

With her mission complete they were both awaiting new orders. He had already submitted House Cortess' files to Imperial Intelligence; the immediate response had been civil but incomplete. Their superiors were probably deliberating their next course of action. Certainty, the dismantlement and transformation of House Cortess was not the solution Intelligence had envisioned, but the job was complete. Denri Ayl, the financial backer of the Eagle, was dead and the instigating traitor, Baroness Chay, executed by her own husband.

Both the victory and the spoils belonged to Cipher, and it had been her choice to allow the nest to integrate the fallen house into the Hive's ranks. Vector approved of the decision, it signaled a small step toward an Imperial and Killik alliance. Thoughts streamed through his mind briefly; Killik emissaries detected the vibration of transmission signals, the Empire was watching and would probably contact Agent and himself shortly.

Rather than leave the new nest and head back to House Thul to find her wayward companion, Agent stayed to observe the change her recent gift was undergoing. He stayed by Cipher's side, watching her watch the Killiks swarming House Cortess. She showed no dismay at the flurry of activity around her, even as the Killik scavengers dismembered the dead for sustenance. She walked fearlessly among the towering insectoids, stopping to stare at the Nest Weavers as they began to line the many columns of House Cortess in chewed, regurgitated propolis from their mandibles. The fine hairs that lined their lanky limbs allowed his Killik brethren to scale upwards. High above, they crawled up columns and over the walls, covering every marble surface in thick layers of dark, spongy mush. Even the vast, vaulted ceiling was coated until it began to drip wet, brown pulp that splattered in globs onto the stone floor below. In a few hours, this secure location would be completely transformed into a soft, warm nursery.

Agent's aura shimmered with light, seemingly curious yellow sparks as they neared the line of Joiners carrying egg sacs bundled in pulp baskets; young ready to be transparent into the new nest immediately. The Hive saw the brightness in Agent's aura too. One female Joiner dressed in House Cortess fashion—a new nest sister—stepped out of line with her empty basket and came toward them.

"The Kind interest you?" the Joiner asked Agent.

Though only one mouth spoke, the question was emitted from them all. Any peaceful curiosity pertaining to the Hive was welcomed and they had taken notice.

"Perhaps," Agent answered after her eyes settled on the Joiner's attire briefly. Thousands of minds listened. Orange eyes intense, yellow sparks cascaded around the field of Cipher's aura. She appeared to be considering them and Vector hoped she saw the benefits the Kind could bring to the Empire, as an outsider Imperial's word would carry more weight than his own to the Diplomatic Service. She continued, "When I turned this place over the nest, I didn't think the setup would begin with such…immediacy."

"You dislike our modifications?" the Joiner asked the question they all felt and moved nearer.

"No, I wouldn't say that," Agent admitted, eyes flicking upward momentarily to watch the meandering Killiks above, "frankly, I'm rather amazed by your efficiency, callousness and all."

Vector frowned at her words though the Hive as a whole was unaffected.

"We waste not, " the Joiner replied stepping closer, nearly brushing Agent's toes with her own, "we are very pleased by your willingness to aid the nest."

"So I've been told," Agent said and yellow sparks dimmed as she took a step back, wary of the sudden closeness.

Cipher's hand twitched, burgundy sparks licked the air before fading. Although she did not grab her weapon, the hovering fingers made her intent clear. Interest did not imply trust. The female Joiner blinked as the Hive's awareness was fed to her; equipped with new instructions, the nest sister rigidly stepped back like a puppet on a string.

"Apologies, we have our duty to attend to," the Joiner said.

"Of course," Agent dismissed with a sharp nod, a sizable distance now between them.

Turning stiffly, the new Joiner seamlessly fell into single file with the others who held empty baskets ready to be filled with more young. Agent's vigilant eyes watched the Joiner leave, yellow sparks peppering the air around her once more. Within the network of minds, Vector searched for insight to the sudden retreat. The female Joiner's recent memory of an overwhelmingly sweet aroma surfaced, compelling as a newly opened blossoms in spring. Vector understood and immediately shared his own thoughts of Agent's unusually saccharine scent.

" _She smells so sweet, why_?" he asked the many minds around him.

" _Sickness_ ," came the response, pulled from the deep, old memories of the nest consciousness. Synapses firing, visions of Sith flashed through his head in rapid succession. The few reminiscent fragments the Hive had collected over the many generations knitted together: burning red eyes, suffocating bruised-black auras, screaming electrons, and gnashing teeth all accompanied by a sickly-sweet scent. The smell the Hive recalled was not a direct match to Agent's—the memory was too overripe like the breath of decay—but still the voices sang one word over and over, " _Beware_."

Vector considered this warning as Agent's holocom rang. She did not dismiss him, so he followed her beyond the doors of House Cortess. A hologram of Keeper appeared in the palm of Agent's hand and he congratulated them on their success. Vector listened, surprised but pleased to join the conversation when Keeper acknowledged him, and informed them both of the changes that had taken place in their assignment. So, he had not been wrong. Their Imperial superiors had been deliberating their recent success. Moreover, he had been given a new assignment to Imperial Intelligence. The nest sang with joy and wonder at the news, curious about the soft, little outsiders who wanted their Dawn Herald among their ranks. Vector shared the nest's sentiments.

"Welcome aboard Vector," Agent said once the communication ended, "I think we'll find a suitable use for your talents."

"Thank you for your professionalism, " He replied inclining his head, happy that the recent change to his assignment seemed supported, "we look forward to assisting you."

She gave a small, quick smile. It seemed well meant, as her aura remained bright. He tried to reciprocate the expression, lips twitching upward. The response was noticeable and unexpected, skeptical gray clouded the spectrum around her.

"What, forget how to smile?" she asked sharply.

"Yes," he admitted without hesitation.

White sparks of confusion lit the air around her before fading. This was not the answer she had been expecting.

"Work on it," Cipher instructed.

"We will."

With that, she turned and headed toward the waiting speeder. Vector followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Killiks are creepy and out of their own personal gain.  
> 2\. I know if you watch him closely, Vector does smile when you first meet him. I like him less human than when you first get him, but he'll learn. Don't worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Traveling to the Eagle's Nest**

"Hey, bug's life," Kaliyo greeted voice was loud and perfectly clear from the doorway, indicating she had overridden the lock to the shared sleeping quarters.

Back to the doorway sitting crossed-legged near the entrance of the room, Vector made no move. He heard but did not respond to the Rattataki, as he was not all there. His head was too full and far away, concentrating on the remote pull of the Hive. Alderaan was light-years away now, the distance growing with each passing moment as the ship headed away from the core worlds and toward their next destination in the mid rim, the Eagle's nest on Nal Hutta. The terrorist plot thickened, and he was excited to begin working with Imperial Intelligence so directly.

Ever since he had completed the Joining, the Diplomatic Service had maintained sparse contact via mail courier, ceasing all communication through holocom. It wasn't difficult to understand that he was considered a pariah to the Imperials; despite the fact that his every action had been to promote the influence of the Empire. His appearance was too alien now, speech too altered, and his credibility was tarnished because of it. After the Joining, his peers couldn't even bear to look at his face. It was hard not to feel offended that his transition was viewed with such disdain, as he offered his superiors nothing but benefits from the nest consciousness. Such was the political game; he tried not to take it personally. However, Agent's arrival marked a change, new possibilities were open now.

Vector had meant what he said to Agent upon their departure, he would miss the nest, but the separation would be manageable. Still, he had not anticipated how accustomed he had become to being one, how poignantly he would miss floating unrestricted in the Hive's subconscious.

It was awkward sharing information through speech and gesture alone, so much was lost in translation. To cope with the change in order to perform as an efficient crew member, Vector would need to find the many fragments of his former identity and coalesce them back into a single mind. The process was not yet complete, it might never be.

Normally, Joining entailed that all knowledge the mind possessed was gradually poured into the collective and shared unanimously. Most Joiners became drones, their one life melded with many to be remembered, cherished, and sung by all.

A drone's mind was cleaned of the clutter living a singular existence created and they lived a simple life as part of a greater whole. However, a Killik or Joiner drone could never leave the nest. As the Hive's connection wanned, a drone would become disoriented—like a child who had lost its mother—and they would forget to eat, drink, and sleep as they had no sense of individuality, no notion of self-preservation.

To leave the nest required a concept of self. Vector Hyllus as a whole did not exist; he was a collection of memories—behavior patterns, abilities, and predispositions—that remained from the time before Joining. The pieces gave an impression of selfhood, a place to begin life anew as Dawn Herald. He was many, as not all of Vector Hyllus could be found. Not all of what had been could be remembered. Memory was not infallible. There were gaps.

Parts of his personality, traits, and talents had to be contrived, pulled from the various remembrances of the Hive. He—they—became the closest resemblance to what had existed in this mind before Joining. Together, they were a new and better Vector Hyllus. One that retained his past dedication to the Empire and yearning to learn of alien cultures, but now supplemented with a Killik Warrior's instinct and senses. Still, there was much to relearn. Vector hoped that by interacting with others that he would remember more of his previous self.

Memory was not infallible. There were gaps. Parts of his personality, traits, and talents had to be contrived, pulled from the various remembrances of the Hive. He—they—became the closest resemblance to what had existed in this mind before Joining. Together, they were a new and better Vector Hyllus. One that retained his past dedication to the Empire and yearning to learn of alien cultures, but now supplemented with a Killik Warrior's instinct and senses. Still, there was much to relearn. Vector hoped that by interacting with others that he would remember more of his previous self.

The connection to the Hive was weakening. The phantom rub of mingling thoughts brushed his consciousness. Distant voices sang in reassuring tones to soothe him as his individuality became more solidified. There was so much information regarding his identity, it was difficult to contain in a single head without consistent feedback from the Hive. At this distance, there was no continuous feed to help back up his thoughts. The limited connection gave him a sense of isolation, but such was the burden of a Dawn Herald.

' _Gone, but not alone,_ ' the murmur of a thousand voices buzzed softly, fainter with each passing moment, ' _never alone._ '

"Hey, it's rude to leave a woman waiting," Kaliyo drawled, interrupting his concentration again, "what'do I gotta do, wiggle my antenna?"

Vector drew a sharp breath and opened midnight eyes. The thoughts from the Hive faded instantly, becoming an unintelligible, low hum in the back of his mind, like the white noise from a distorted holofeed. For the first time in many years, Vector felt alone. To be an individual meant one had to deal with a certain amount of silence. Chest tightening at the realization, he felt tears prickle his eyes.

As the wetness gathered, Vector was reminded once again that he hadn't left the nest since the transformation. Trepidation was normal, old memories were likely to ignite, and an emotional response was possible. He had sought the safely of the sleeping quarters for a reason and had asked not to be disturbed, not wanting anyone to witness a lapse in composure during his first true act of separation from the Hive. Agent had agreed to his request, but his preparations had not been enough to ward off Kaliyo. He had no time to savor the salt and sorrow he'd forgotten he could produce. Blinking away the dampness, Vector stood face neutral despite the feelings that cluttered his mind and clouded his aura.

"How may we be of assistance?" Vector replied monotonously, turning to see Kaliyo leaning languidly against the metal door frame.

"I interrupt something?" The question was callous and gray eyes looked him up and down before settling on his face.

"Nothing of importance," he lied, disliking her smirk.

"Bet you were talk'n to your bug pals, huh? Don't tell me, you're homesick already," her sneer grew.

Kaliyo was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. Gray eyes never left his. He stared at her, watching the murky aura around her fluctuate. Dim, deep red radiated in jagged waves from her dark mauve core, emitting from the center of her heavily armored chest and ignited ruddy sparks around her field that streaked like embers across a smoky sky. The pointed spectrum brushed against the edge of his aura as sharply as briars scratching skin.

"Our transition to the ship is going well, we are fine," he assured, "we appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary."

"Uh-huh," she pushed, nodding toward the center of the room,"gonna let me in?"

The question was late considering she was halfway in the door, but Vector inclined his head and moved to stand by the desk in the far corner.

"See you didn't do anything to your side of the place yet," she noted glancing around the room as she entered,"but I guess there's always time to add an egg chamber or two, right?"

"Is there something you wish to discuss?" Vector asked, ignoring her jeers, "As you mentioned, we have yet to fully move in and would like too."

"Yeah, that's just what I was checking up on," Kaliyo said plopping down onto the lower left bunk, his assigned bed. Lounging with hands folded behind her ash-colored head, she swung booted feet onto the mattress, leaving long dirty skid marks behind on the coverlet. Giving him a pointed look she asked, "How you like'n your new digs? I mean it's not a cave or anything, but if you really start feel'n homesick, lemme know. Sure I could find a hole to put you back in."

"We find adjusting to life above ground enjoyable, but it is kind of you to consider us and our needs, " Vector attempted to force a small, pleasant smile—he'd been practicing as per Agent's request—not about to return Kaliyo's hostility.

"Oh, trust me, I am look'n out for you," the Rattataki woman said smiling unkindly, "Agent might pretend to accept this little three-some we got go'n on, but you don't fool me."

"We understand we cause you discomfort, but we are here to serve the Empire." He reassured.

A sharp, barking laugh left her.

"I don't give two kriffs who you serve, those pits you call eyes tell me all I need to know."

Kaliyo stood and sauntered over to him, the crest of her head barely reached his collarbone. Metal sang against flesh as she gave his cheek a sharp pat, the duralium palm of the glove chilled his skin. He did not flinch, knowing the reaction would have been seen as a weakness in the eyes of someone like her.

"I'll be watching Bugboy," she said with a half smirk.

Of that he had no doubt.

When Kaliyo left, Vector relocked the door and wrinkled his nose at the bitterness that hung in the air. He would have to adapt to the smell as they shared the same room, but he wouldn't grow acclimatized in a day's time. Quickly rummaging through his effects, he found the incense the nest had given him as one of a few parting gifts. It was a meditation aid and he lit the perfume. The incense defused, filling the small room with the nest's earthy dampness and faint traces of Killik pheromones. Kaliyo's scent remained but was overpowered for now by the smell of home.

Returning to his position on the floor, Vector closed dark eyes and tried to reestablish connection with the nest, but by now the Phantom had traveled too far beyond Alderaan's orbit to speak at length to his kin. No matter how he concentrated, the connection was distorted like ripples across a pond and came in waves.

The Hive could still feel his need even at such a distance, and offered the basest of memories for comfort: the musk of the egg chamber, the heady taste of gold membrosia, and the fresh scent of dried dew in the early morning sun. So far away, yet the Hive's love radiated among the cosmos, streaming out to touch their distant, traveling child-never alone.

This time, Vector did not stop the wetness that tracked down his cheeks. Instead, he dipped the pads of his fingers into the rivulets and brought the dampness to his lips. Tasting a combination of water, electrolytes, and proteins, Vector sighed softly and savored the peace the nest provided for a short time as he gathered himself in meditation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Whole buncha bullshit about Killiks and Joiners--don't think about it too hard.  
> 2\. Kaliyo's great at giving warm welcomes.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Cost of Defending the Empire**

The mission was complete. The Eagle was dead and Darth Jadus captured. Vector had not accompanied Agent on her quest but he had read the final report. The mission had been accomplished and the terrorist threat ended, but at a terrible cost. So many civilians lost. The death toll was staggering and the estimate only grew as the cleanup continued. Worst still, Darth Jadus hadn't been the one who fired the Eradicator. Instead, Cipher 9 had pulled the trigger.

Report file in hand on his datapad, Vector walked onto the bridge of the Phantom. Agent was in her command chair, having input the coordinates to their next destination; they were to return to the Fleet for maintenance and a required holiday. Kaliyo lounged in the communications seat to Agent's right, legs thrown over the armrest. Hues of rosy pink radiated from the Rattataki's dark mauve core as she finished her story and ignored his presence.

"So then I told him, that ain't milk. Ferrazid's sure as shit don't have utters, just one big one," Kaliyo said and cackled loudly once, Agent's lips curled up a little, "idiot drank it anyway, should have seen the look on his face.”

Silence fell for a beat.

"Agent," he prompted, "when you are not busy, may we have a moment of your time? We have read the final report from your last mission and would like to review it with you."

Cipher turned her head to look at him. The Rattataki's song soured as pink hues began to bleed dark red.

"Considerate of you Vector, but I like to do my own paperwork,” Agent dismissed, orange eyes glancing at the datapad he held and then away.

"Forgive us, but we would like to provide an oral summary of the report before you grant your signature," he insisted. Rarely was he an assertive man, but Vector found that he could not let such a travesty pass in silence.

Agent sighed, brows lowered as deep red sparks burst around her briefly. Regardless of her thoughts, Agent humored him and fully turned her seat around to face him. After the start of their first mission together on Alderaan, she had maintained a strictly professional persona around him. It seemed Agent had taken his request to be direct to heart, for which he was thankful. All of their conversations since had been short and candid. Mostly, they spoke of his transition to the ship. She seemed to have some interest in his person, they had conversed about his first experience eating rations, but nothing as serious as the matter that trouble him now.

"Proceed."

"Now?" he asked.

"No time like the present," Agent clipped.

"Very well," dark eyes flicked down to the datapad he held and Vector began, "first, there was the capture of Darth Jadus and the Imperial Dreadnaught the Dominator, along with the systematic elimination of the entire crew—"

"—All in a day's work," Kaliyo interjected.

He had hoped for a more private setting, perhaps he ought to have mentioned that. Inky eyes looked at the Rattataki and she glared right back. Agent said nothing about the exchange, though her gaze traveled between her companions.

"And the damage caused by the Eradicator is an estimated 45,000 casualties on Dromund Kass, 23,500 on Korriban…" he continued through the extensive list of planets and outposts until Agent cut him off.

"—If you have a point to make, do so," she ordered, aura shrinking.

"The devastation caused by firing the Eradicators overshadows the outcome of the mission, therefore the mission cannot be regarded as a success," he said bluntly.

Agent's eyebrows arched at him. A half grin broke out across Kaliyo's face as pink bloomed in her aura again, as though she found his words as humorous as her crude story.

"Your professional opinion, I assume," Agent said.

Cipher's aura had constricted into a tightly controlled sphere now. Orange nearly gone, dark red rolled from her core in choppy, viscous waves not unlike the molten convection of stars. However, Vector was unmoved by the display.

"Yes," he said, head inclining once.

Yellow and deep red sparks fizzled through Cipher's constricted field, crackling like lightning as they struck each other. Song becoming sharp, she calmly steepled her fingers and leaned back in her chair.

"Had I not fired the weapon, I wouldn't have gained the Darth's short-lived trust and he might have gotten away. I did everything I could to prevent my defeat and his escape. Now, he will face a trial governed by those best suited to judge him," she argued in an even tone.

"Your reasoning is not without logic, but it has amounted to nearly a quarter of a million Imperial lives lost," he reminded.

"Sith always dream big don't they? Had Jadus operated the Eradicator accurately, the casualties would be even higher. Had he escaped, who knows what devastation he'd have concocted in his exile. Darth Jadus is where he belongs now," Agent reiterated, firmly defending her decision.

"Perhaps, but its doubtful trial and punishment alone will change someone like him," he said truthfully.

Darth Jadus was incredibly powerful—he had been surprised Agent and Kaliyo had returned alive, much less been able to corner the Sith Lord— and surely the Dark Council would not want to suffer the loss of such a dominating player. The Empire and the Republic were almost on the tipping point of full scale warfare. Darth Jadus was too valuable of an asset for the Dark Council to lose, regardless of his attempt to murder them. The Darth probably still had parts of his network operational as,

Certainly, Jadus would be tortured and imprisoned for a time, but it was doubtful that corporal punishment would have any lasting effect on someone who willingly murdered civilians and faked his death in order to commit mass genocide. More likely, it would only increase Darth Jadus's desire to see the Empire remolded to his liking. Imprisonment would offer the perfect fuel for such flames of hatred.

"What did you want me to do, kill him?" Agent asked face still composed, but hot burgundy sparks flared from her like embers off a roiling fire.

"Death and destruction are not the only answer, Agent," he said and offered his advice, "Darth Jadus is an intelligent man, perhaps he could have been reasoned with."

"And perhaps not," she replied sternly, "I did what I had to do to protect the Empire, and it has survived this terroristic threat bloodied but whole. I performed my duty."

"True, your actions have saved the Imperial regime, but doesn't protecting the Empire imply that your duty to defend it extends to everyone under Imperial influence, what of them?" he asked, indicating to the report as he held it up. The reaction was immediate. Dark, vicious red lashed out from the core of Agent's aura in bursts like plasma from a solar flare. It hurt his eyes to look at and glanced away for a second. Point taken. "…But, regardless of the loss of life, we understand your reasoning and see you stand by it.”

Orange eyes narrowed as wide black orbs stared in return.

"I do," she replied stiffly and rose to her feet.

Agent came near and stopped a pace away. Her sweet, spiced scent was embedded into every facet of the ship and although he was growing accustomed to it, her sudden proximity and whirling emotions made the aroma overwhelming. He drew a calming breath to focus.

"Yet, hindsight doesn't offer any alternative considerations?" Vector pressed looking down at her.

"For what point or purpose?" Agent snapped. Slitted eyes locked with his own as red hot sparks flew between them. She continued, "This line of work requires sacrifice, Vector. I thought you of all people would have understood that."

The words stung. Vector frowned slightly as Agent snatched the datapad from his hand. Returning to her seat, Agent turned away from him to face the wide, glowing map of the galaxy.

"There is a difference between sacrifice and slaughter, Agent," he said to her back.

"And crying over spilt Nerf milk won't put it back in the cup," she retorted apathetically, not bothering to look at him, "what's done is done."

"True, unfortunately," he admitted. There was no undoing this.

"Dismissed," Agent ordered flatly.

There would be no further discussion. Cipher's anger was cooling though he wouldn't say it was gone, rather it seemed to be controlled by her detachment. The aura around her gradually began to grow to its normal circumference, but it was dim and cold. Red hues flowed around Agent's core dark and heavy as cooling magma while light blue sparks cascaded through her field like a winter storm. Vector tasted frost on his tongue.

He glanced at Kaliyo still sitting sideways in the communications chair. Glowing with pleasure, the Rattataki smirked and raised two fingers in his direction. Thumbing pointed upward like a raised blaster, her hand jerked once and dark grey lips mouthed—bang bang. Without a word, Vector turned and left the deck for the seclusion of the cargo hold to sing his grief to the distant Hive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Everyone is mean to Vector, everyone. I like it.  
> 2\. Agent is darkside but she'll become less harsh as the story goes on.  
> 3\. I think my take on the Jadus incident is different than others I've read. Most seem to have some remorse if they chose to unleash the eradicators, Agent not so much. Clearly, Vector's not happy with her decision or apathy.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Long Leave of Absence**

Once the Phantom was docked in the Imperial Fleet's port, Agent left them to their own devices. Cipher said she had to meet with their superiors before starting her personal holiday. Until she returned, they were free to do as they pleased, within reason. She had been unable to broker rooms for them on Fleet. The Imperial Base was full apparently, which was odd. The Phantom was available for them to use, so long as the ship didn't leave the dock, and they were free to make their own arrangements.

Beyond that, she told them little else. No matter how slyly Kaliyo asked, promising all sorts of drink, illegal stims, and questionable company, Agent wouldn't divulge her holiday plans beyond traveling to Dromund Kass nor would she agree to join the Rattataki on her adventures. In the end, Agent left without saying goodbye. Kaliyo didn't seem alarmed by the lack of farewell, so Vector assumed he shouldn't be either.

Vector stayed stationed on the Fleet for the duration of their holiday. Originally, he had considered going to Dromund Kass as well to reforge old connections in the Diplomatic Service, but upon their arrival he found that the Fleet contained a sudden swell of refugees: various farmers, factory workers, engineers, researchers and technicians from nearly all Imperial owned worlds and outposts. The reason the Fleet had no room to spare was due to the herds of displaced Imperial citizens who filtered through the base daily, buying what supplies and equipment they could afford before being shipped off to their newly assigned settlements.

Intimately aware of the reason for their relocation, Vector knew the amount of casualties caused by the Eradicators, but numbers were impersonal. Seeing, smelling, tasting, and hearing the suffering of the survivors was heart wrenching. Their fractured limbs and burned skin would heal, a large squad of medics and cyberneticists had been assigned to tend to the arriving masses, but their broken hearts and crushed spirits would take far longer to mend. The many songs of the refugees resonated throughout the Fleet so sorrowfully, Vector found he couldn't leave.

When not on the ship, Vector spent most of his time aiding those who would allow his assistance. The Fleet personnel were initially wary when he offered his services. At first, hardly any of the officers would look at him directly. He could taste the bitter repulsion and fear that seeped from their pores when they saw his eyes. However, with his new assignment to Imperial Intelligence came power; due to his rank, qualifications, and the lack of available personal, he was given assignments.

Agent had been correct, it was important to relearn how to smile pleasantly. The simple gesture proved invaluable. Frightened, discontented refugees were quick to take their pain and frustrations out on those around them, as was human nature. A listening ear, calm words, and a gentle smile were tools of the trade for a diplomat. With a little practice, Vector found he was able to sort out problems from settling neighborly disputes about sleeping arrangements to ensuring medical aid and quality rations were distributed out accordingly. His work did not go unnoticed.

Although Vector couldn't say that the Fleet personnel or refugees ever trusted him completely, within days they were more willing to seek out his assistance. Soon he was negotiating transfers, ensuring as many families stayed together as possible. The happiness his meager work provided made the refugee's songs less miserable. While the looks of disgust never quite left their faces and forever flashed in their auras, by the second week the refugees stopped shielding their children from his presence. The mild trust was reassuring and Vector found pleasure in being able to soothe some of the discomfort on the Fleet while brushing up on his skills. The holiday offered the perfect opportunity to relearn the basics of human interaction.

News of his work got back to the Diplomatic Service and a few of his old classmates came to visit him. Though he had some difficulty remembering them initially, they recalled his former self quite well. Although his appearance was disconcerting, most were able to maintain composure, one even said he resembled the Vector Hyllus they had once known. Perhaps this was not what their vacation had been intended for, but Vector found himself enjoying it all the same. Serving the Imperial people was its own reward, and as a companion to the agent who had attributed to their suffering, he felt it was his duty to help.

He saw little of Kaliyo as she frequently left the Fleet, taking outbound shuttles and ship hopping to Hutta, Balmorra, Tatooine, and Nar Shaddaa, for which he was glad. He did not know the nature of her trips, but often saw her writing what appeared to be names on her datapad every time she returned from a planet.

Although they had the same assignment, sleeping quarters, and shared the same general vicinity, Kaliyo made it clear she had no interest in being civil. Vector had made several attempts to be in her company when they both happened to be on board the Phantom, trying to form some semblance of understanding between them. He invited her to a few games of dejarik but stopped asking after the third try, as Kaliyo would only scuff nastily at the request and walk away.

Only once during their break did Kaliyo speak to him on her own vocation. Vector had grown to expect that they would spend the remainder of their holiday in silence. Lying on his bunk reading one of his favorite plays on his datapad, Vector was surprised to see Kaliyo stroll into the room and lean against the side of his bed. Setting the datapad down on his lap, Vector looked up at her.

"You see weird kriff, right?" she asked.

He frowned slightly at her tactless phrasing.

"If you're referring to our ability to detect a wide range of frequencies in the electromagnetic spectrum, then yes,” Vector clarified.

"Yea, yea," she rolled her eyes at him but continued, "and you can smell and hear things too?"

"Yes, why the sudden curiosity in our faculties?" he asked, knowing how little she thought of him and the Kind.

Kaliyo shifted and crossed her arms, hesitating before asking, "Even with all those weird senses, you haven't seen Agent, right?"

He considered the question. It had been three weeks now since the start of their holiday. It had taken time to adjust to the large volume of people on base, so many new sights, smells, and sounds. Mostly he picked up traces of grief and pain on the Fleet: the salty scent of tears, the tart metallic taste that followed wounded refugees, and the minty residue of kolto gel.

Other, more powerful, passengers arrived on the Fleet every day. Sometimes, Vector caught the breath of decay coming from ominous figures. Usually, the scent was emitted from force users whose deep violet auras swirled with black and red hues. Still, there were many other passengers whose spectrum lacked the purple coloring of the force, but their eyes and auras burned like Cipher's. The aroma of sweet rot followed behind them too, but none matched the honeyed-spice and frost that was uniquely Agent.

"No…we haven't. Should we have?" he asked and frowned. Three weeks was a rather long time. Kaliyo shrugged. Her question answered, she pushed off from the bed frame and headed for the door. He asked after her, "Does Agent usually disappear for long periods of time?"

She stopped, shrugged again and answered, "When it suits her."

There was a pause and Vector caught the deep, rust yellow tangling in the core of her grey aura. It was a hue he had never seen her produce before and it looked suspiciously like worry. He had seen the color frequently over the last few weeks aboard the Fleet. Perhaps this was Kaliyo's way of expressing concern and asking for assistance. Deciding he should attempt to console her, as he'd had much practice lately, Vector schooled his facial features into a sympathetic expression.

He began, "We know you have more experience as her partner, but we're positive if something was wrong sh–"

"–Vector," Kaliyo interrupted with an over the shoulder glance.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

He did, face becoming impassive once again. Kaliyo left, though her bitter scent remained. In the distance he heard the airlock whoosh open and then close. They did not speak for the rest of their holiday.

A week later while both of them were aboard–he had been meditating in the cargo bay while Kaliyo laid in bed recovering from her recent cantina outing–the airlock opened without either of them commanding it to. From across the hall, Vector could hear Kaliyo fumbling for her blaster pistol, but took no aggressive action himself. Already, the smell of sweet spice was wafting in from the open door. Just like that, Agent returned as suddenly as she had left.

Breaking out of his trance, Vector rose to his feet and stepped just beyond the cargo bay door in time to watch Kaliyo swagger out of their shared quarters holstering her weapon. It took her several tries to put the pistol away as she was still quite inebriated. Although the Rattataki wore her usual mean-spirited smirk, he could see the light pink coloring her spectrum and knew Kaliyo was happy to see Agent return.

The women clasped hands and wrapped an arm around each other’s shoulders, bringing their bodies close in a half embrace. Auras mingled. Bright red-orange encased dark gray as hues of soft rose radiated from each of their cores like clouds of newly birthed nebula. Kaliyo slapped Agent's back once with a solid, hollow thwack. Cipher didn't grimace at the contact, nor did her pleasant aura change, so he assumed it was a friendly gesture.

"Long time no see," Kaliyo greeted as she released Agent, "bet your vacation was boring as slag without me."

"Relaxing, actually," Agent said with a half-smile.

The Rattataki scuffed, "See, knew it, boooring. Got just the thing to fix that, been make'n that to do list I mentioned while you were out. Talk to me when you're ready, you know where I am."

Bumping Agent's shoulder with a fist, Kaliyo retreated back to her bunk to recuperate. Cipher turned and her eyes caught his. Still standing just past the cargo bay, Vector raised one hand in greeting as she neared. It was then he realized they hadn't spoken at length since their disagreement on the bridge. He wondered if that would affect their interaction, but Agent's aura remained bright, clear, and rosy.

"Vector,” she greeted.

"Agent," he returned, "You seem well, and we hope your holiday went as planned."

"It did," Agent said affably.

"May we inquire about your travels?" He politely asked, curious about her long absence.

"Where did I go?" She asked and he nodded yes. "Kaas City, naturally."

"Yes, a familiar destination," Vector agreed though he couldn't help but think Agent's words untrue.

Having lived and studied in Kaas City, he had once known the rainy Imperial capital well. The pervasive dampness was difficult to deal with, and he faintly remembered it often left his robes musty–odd how the sense of smell could be a trigger to so many memories. Yet, he did not catch the familiar wetness and mildew on Agent that should have permeated her clothing during such a lengthy stay. If anything, only traces of disinfectant and kolto lingered on her skin and hair, as though she'd been submerged in a kolto tank for a long, long time. While he understood that Agent was a private person, he had hoped she would tell him outright if their conversation had breached into personal matters rather than lie.

"It is, but I hear you were quite the fixture on the Fleet. This was supposed to be a holiday for all of us or weren't you aware?" She asked and frowned at him, though her aura didn't color with displeasure.

"We had an enjoyable time we assure you," he said with a smile.

A small, bright shock of pink shot through her red-orange aura.

"You've been practicing," she noted with a slight smile of her own, gesturing to his expression.

"Yes, as per your instructions," he admitted, "over the last month we've had many opportunities to brush up on facial gesticulation. In the nest, such forms of expression aren't used frequently as Killiks don't have lips."

Vector wasn't sure what reaction he expected from his small attempt at humor, but confusion wasn't it. White sparks ignited the air around Agent in a flurry.

"What did you say?" She asked suddenly, aura shrinking and growing dim. Any hint of pink vanished.

"Killiks don't have lips?"

"No, no…" she began but stopped and shook her head, as though clearing troubled thoughts from her head. A tight smile formed on her lips. "Never mind. The holiday just… flew by. Excuse me."

"Of course," he offered as she brushed by.

Agent retreated to her room and Vector watched her go, wondering what he had said to cause such distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There's got to be so much ruined crap from the eradicator bombardment, you can't even tell me.  
> 2\. Vector would totally help people out. Helpful bug.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Master Stratagem**

"So suddenly Bugboy learns to smile and now he's your partner in crime?" Kaliyo spat, glaring heatedly at him over Agent's shoulder. The Rattataki stood in the cargo bay doorway, watching as they prepped for their outing on Nar Shaddaa to meet with Agent's Republic contacts.

"You've got a hard touch Kaliyo. We're infiltrating the Republic SIS, not decimating them, yet," Agent said evenly as she went through her equipment check one more time, hands deftly patting down her torso and legs, feeling for vibroknives, ammo clips, and kolto injections.

"Yeah, yeah," The Rattataki scuffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest, "just don't forget who was here first."

Scowling, Kaliyo left them to go lean against her usual spot in the corridor. Vector could feel her intense gaze as he and Agent walked by to exit the ship. Without looking he knew dark, jagged red was coiling in the center of her grey aura. Dutifully, he followed Agent to the speeder waiting for them in the spaceport docking bay.

"You chose to take us, Kaliyo is not pleased," he said as they neared the vehicle.

"Let her sulk, it'll improve her target practice," Agent replied, not at all perturbed.

"May we ask what prompted your decision?" he asked.

"I need someone I can trust to do this job. The Republic needs to believe my intentions to deflect are true, redemptive even," Agent answered as she straddled the machine and sat down.

"You trust us then," he said, finding some measure of happiness in the idea as he sat behind her.

"Wouldn't say that," she replied reaching for the handlebars.

Vector had no reply. Cipher's words weren't unusual, it wasn't difficult to imagine that an Operative's trust in others was tenuous. Still, a small frown formed on his lips. There was a pause as bright, orange eyes glanced back. Agent had not bothered to conceal her nature, attempting to appear honest in seeking asylum, or as Kaliyo put it, to look like someone who had seen some serious kriff. Turning away, Cipher sighed through her nose.

"What you did on the Fleet with the refugees during my absence was impressive," Agent continued eyes straight ahead, "the officers spoke well of you when I returned."

"We're pleased you find our actions notable, but we did not perform them to garner your approval or anyone else's. We felt our help was needed and performed accordingly," he answered honestly.

"I figured as much and there lies your answer," she replied briskly," ready?"

Vector stared at Agent, considering both her judgment and watchfulness. It was foolish to think that she hadn't been taking tabs on them during her vacation. Nodding once, he gently grabbed Cipher's waist and the next instant they were off racing through the city of lights.

Nar Shaddaa was beautiful as it was terrible. An electric shrine to the joys of the flesh. All the flashing, glittering colors blended together as they sped through the streets. Electromagnetic auras mingled and blurred until he had difficulty distinguishing between the living and the mechanical lights. Eventually, Vector had to close his eyes, overcome by the sensory overload.

Even without sight, his auditory and olfactory senses continued to feed him an ocean of information. So many individuals, songs and smells–it was overpowering. The Fleet had contained a mere fraction of the populace in comparison to Nar Shaddaa, and it still had taken him a day or so to adjust to the large volume of people on the starbase.

On this Hutt run world, there was an unfathomable amount of impulses. The scent of multiple alien compounds sent his senses spinning. Even simple biological functions–breathing, perspiration, crying–produced a confusing cacophony of stimulus when compiled in such a mass of individuals. There were too many chemicals to identify, and he could feel his heart rate spike. Countless perfumes and pheromones mixed making his eyes water and the constant hum of a thousand speeders overhead proved to be terribly distracting, bordering on painful.

Vector bowed his head and drew a slow, deep breath to center himself, nose brushing the back of Agent's neck. Inhaling sweet spice and frost he felt his senses calm at the familiarity of the scent. The aroma he had once found distracting now helped him center his thoughts. Gradually, the world of light and sound narrowed as he focused. His pulse slowed and so did the speeder. When dark eyes opened, Vector found Agent looking at him over her shoulder.

"Something wrong?" she asked, eyebrows lowered.

He shook his head that there wasn't and the speeder sped off once more. So long as he concentrated on Agent, Vector found he could tune out most of the discord that permeated this planet. By the time Agent drove them to Star Cluster Casino, he felt confident that he could perform as expected.

They were greeted by a man named Hunter. Before coming into contact with the target, Agent had to provide a token of loyalty, or so the man explained. Not unsurprising, it was probably rare for Imperial agents to be turncoats, proof was necessary. Still, Vector felt uncomfortable in Hunter's presence. The man's aura–or lack thereof–was extremely disturbing. Any trace of color was absent, with only a faint flash of white highlighting where the corona of his aura ended. Vector could read very little from the man. Though, Hunter did seem pleased as he gave a smile while explaining how Agent was to break in and enter an Imperial droid factory to sabotage it.

In hindsight, Vector thanked the stars that Agent's loyalty hadn't been tested directly on Imperial citizens. Droid functionality, though they did possess artificial intelligence, was not valued like humanoid lives. Organic beings–with a few cybernetic exceptions–could not be reconstructed. The cortosis data was quickly procured from the factory and delivered much to Hunter's smug satisfaction-probably smug, it was difficult to tell.

Pleased enough with Agent's act of loyalty, they were lead directly to the chamber of Ardun Kothe. Agent's whole persona changed at the sight of the ex-Jedi. Her every word spoke only of disgust and fear of the Empire--a believable act. As the two began their conversation in earnest, Hunter invited him for a private discussion, steering him away from Agent, leaving her alone with Kothe.

Hunter led him to the entrance of the Star Cluster Casino and despite man's smile, Vector was not put at ease. Inquisitive as a child, the strange man leaned close.

"Neat," Hunter said then gestured to his face. "The eyes, I mean."

"Thank you," Vector returned cordially as the other took a step back.

"I'll have to remember the look of'em. Never seen a Joiner up close before, aren't you a little far from your nest?"

"Yes, but we've been a companion to Agent since our meeting and with her we plan to reside," he admitted vaguely.

Hunter's smile grew sharp, "I see, so that sweet thing showed up out of the blue and you've been tailing her ever since?"

He frowned at the incorrect interpretation, "If you're implying that we are pursuing her, then no."

"Nice, I like whole gentlebeing act, it'll work for you," Hunter scuffed. “Aside from the something-sithy-walks-this-way vibe, she's got a cute face. I'm jealous, really am."

The words didn't sound like a lie, but Vector was at a loss. Was the man jealous of their nonexistence intimacy or Cipher's face? The later sounded too literal. Yet, without Hunter's aura for guidance, it was difficult to decipher his meaning.

In the distance the door to Kothe's chamber opened. Discord rang through the air as Cipher marched out and made a beeline toward him. Hunter gave a lopsided smile at her approach.

"Welcome back Legate, thanks for the cooperation," Hunter said with a wink, smile growing.

Vector couldn't return the sentiment, eyes widening in alarm instead at Cipher's appearance. The bright red-orange aura had shrunk protectively around her, barely pulsating past Agent's frame. The once vivid colors were mute, dampened by dark grey and sickly yellow hues. Physically she seemed unharmed. He couldn't scent any metallic traces on her, no blood or bruising. Still, Agent's song and aura were terribly hampered as though injured.

"Thank you," Agent replied soberly, "my time here has been most eye opening."

"I'm sure it has been. Be seeing you around, Legate," Hunter said, performing a halfhearted mockery of an Imperial salute.

Cipher said nothing in return and without sparing anyone a glance headed for the exit. After giving Hunter a stiff bow in farewell, Vector followed her out the door. Together they left the Star Cluster Casino in silence. It wasn't until they reached the speeder that he questioned her.

"Agent, are you all right?" he asked.

There was a pause as Agent stopped walking and looked at him gravely, orange eyes dim and sunken. Her lips opened and then closed quickly, forming a tight line as she sighed sharply, song souring further.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Agent answered evenly, at odds with her swirling emotions.

"Your aura shines dimly, did your meeting go as planned?"

"I–!" she began suddenly, eyes wide and voice strangled, but like a trap snapping shut lips clamped together again. Deep yellow spiked darkly from her core then, nearly filling her entire aura before Cipher resumed in a painfully calm voice," It went well. I'm perfectly fine, let's go."

He said nothing, just frowned softly at the lie and watched as the ghastly hue undulated choppily until her entire aura was stained a sickly yellow. They drove back to the ship without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I like to think Hunter is a mystery to everyone.  
> 2\. And this is pretty much all I got that's presentable. Let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Pit Stops Part 1: Hit List**

For several days now, Vector had been reading about the planet Taris on his datapad. After meditating for lengthy periods to gather the foggy memories, he recalled a few pieces of the lectures he’d attended at the Academy about the ruined planet. A marred history, Taris had suffered the repercussions of advancing too rapidly: pollution, class warfare, and ultimately civil war. The ecological and financial disasters bred discontent and violence. In the end, the planet had become another battleground between the Empire and the Republic.

He remembered most of his classmates had regarded Darth Malak’s bombardment of Taris as a necessary action, despite the political reproductions the annihilation caused initially. Personally, Vector found destroying an entire planet in the hopes of stopping one Jedi--who managed to escape as well--beyond excessive. Although he hadn’t expressed his opinion aloud, he still considered the devastation a failure. Diplomacy had given way to self-serving pursuits, and Taris had subsequently been reduced to a war-ravaged shell of its former self. Pity.

Three centuries later, the Republic was attempting to recolonize the poisoned planet. Although the task might be possible, Taris was now ruled by the rackghouls: the biological aftermath of Sith warfare. He wondered what song such a damaged, desolate world would sing, but for now the verse remained unheard.

Agent's SIS contacts had requested they travel to Taris to hunt down Jedi Knight Ki Sazen, hence his research, though they had not arrived in orbit yet. Rather, Agent seemed reluctant to go. Upon their return from Nar Shaddaa, she sought only the sanctuary of her room and Kaliyo's company. Vector found himself wondering if this is how the two had interacted prior to his assignment to the Phantom. The women were inseparable.

After leaving Nar Shaddaa, the women began to planet hop over the next three weeks. They started to travel to all the destinations Kaliyo had visited during their holiday. The order of the trips were too similar to be coincidental, and Vector was skeptical about the nature of the Rattataki's to do list. He had overheard the women talking, not that he meant to pry, but they frequently conversed in the corridor beyond the cargo bay. The short distance coupled with his heightened senses made it difficult not to listen. From what he gathered, Kaliyo intimately knew every person on the list. But the way her song grew sharp at its every mention gave her familiarity a sinister edge.

His concerns proved valid. It was impossible not to smell the blaster smoke and spilled blood that coated the women upon their every return to the Phantom. Although he had been in altercations with Agent on Alderaan, she had never smelled so strongly of such deeds when traveling with him. The stench of death and violence wafted about the pair thick as perfume. The scent only brought one word to mind: overkill.

Disturbingly, Kaliyo’s aura became brighter after each outing. As the days passed, the dark gray spectrum turned light and misty, like fog evaporating in the morning sun. Hues of soft and dark pink coiled around the core of her field and radiated outward in gentle, rosy waves of pleasure and gratification. The sudden change in her aura coupled with the stink of death and his observations created a dark narrative.

It wasn’t difficult to piece together that Kaliyo was pleased over the deaths of her previous companions. Why she felt joy at their demise, Vector didn't know. But he understood that the Rattataki wasn't one to trust, less she come after him in the future with the same murderous intent. Agent was either brave or very foolish to aid her.

While Kaliyo's aura grew more lovely by the day, Agent's seemed stunted in comparison. Ever since their meeting with SIS at the Star Cluster Casino, her spectrum had remained tainted with dark yellow. The toxic hue swirled about her core of her field like poison, indicating perpetual anxiety and--though he’d never utter it aloud--fear. The transition in her aura from bright and burning to sickly cool was eerie. Although auras were known to change throughout an individual's life, such a sudden alteration was unnatural and concerning.

Agent’s features reflected the change only he could see. The telltale orange irises burned brighter, but perhaps that could be attributed to her poor complexion. Deep, sleepless bruises rung her eyes while purple veins bled dark pathways to her temples. He remembered calling Cipher’s appearance starting once; the description seemed apter now.

Agent's song had soured as well. Before, her melody was clear, strong and usually harmony with her Rattataki companion. Now, it created a strange, offkey melody when combined with Kaliyo's new song of happiness. The discord aboard the ship was unnerving. He found himself worrying about her health but was uncertain how to approach the subject. Ultimately, he decided against it. Cipher was a private person, perhaps it would be prudent to wait until she decided to seek aid.

Despite her reclusiveness, Vector sought Agent out once the women returned from Hutta. He had news to share beyond the basic observations of Taris. The long hours of meditation he’d begun to remember his schooling had opened his mind further. Other images had filtered in. Their travels through the cosmos had stirred a forgotten verse in the song of the universe; he’d caught glimpses of it in meditation and recently in his dreams as well during recuperative hours. The vision was getting stronger, and Agent should be informed of the development.

The discovered verse had a soft but powerfully melancholic tune. It imparted an old memory that tasted of warm, loamy soil in his subconscious. During sleep, the song had crept into his mind wove a kaleidoscopic vision, creating that looked like a mosaic on a great wall. There was the impression of a wavering pattern on the tiled surface--circles, circles, circles.

Although he couldn’t decipher the meaning, the memory felt familiar. It reminded him of the planet he now considered to be home, Alderaan. It had taken several days, but in slow, broken conversations with the Hive he had managed to share a whiff of the scent. In return, the Hive had sent one decipherable thought in reply--' _Kin…Lost...Colony_.'

He knew of whom the Hive spoke, the message stirred hardwired memories of the Killik migration. But at this distance, he could gather little else from the nest and they from him. Intrigued, he felt compelled to share some of the knowledge with Agent.

After a moment of hesitation, as Cipher seemed reluctant to speak with him since their rendezvous with SIS, she agreed to have an audience. When they were alone in the cargo bay, he decided to ease her into the conversation of Killiks affairs by mentioning the emissaries that had stowed away on the ship. Perhaps not the best idea, his words caused a sudden spike of dark yellow to stream through her field until he explained their harmless nature.

The stowaways harbored no ill intent; they were merely curious. It was doubtful that anyone onboard would have noticed their existence had he not mentioned them. Even with his heightened senses, the incredibly tiny insects had been able to escape detection for weeks by muting their auras and burrowing in his pores. As nest mates, their scent was so similar the closeness had gone unnoticed. He had already scolded them lightly for their secretive behavior. Incessantly curious, the emissaries said they hid for fear of being sent back home. He had only discovered them because he heard their dim songs in his dreams.

"But that brings us to our original query, we've been having dreams, Agent. A long forgotten memory is being discovered," he said serenely, remembering the faint visions that stirred in his mind. “The Killiks of Alderaan know little of the galaxy--only what they absorb through Joiners. Our journey teaches them a great deal, but there is something that intrigues the nest. The fate of our lost kin.”

“I’m aware that the Killiks are an ancient race, but in my travels I’ve only come across colicoids, gensions, other insectoids. Can’t say I’ve ever seen Killiks off Alderaan.” Agent said, inquisitive yellow sparks starting to flood her dim spectrum.

The lights gave Vector confidence. Despite the nameless terror that had occurred during the SIS meeting, Agent hadn't been completely changed by the intense fear and worry that coursed through her daily. Cipher was still interested in his words and world, sometimes.

“No one knows what became of them or whether they survived, but the migration is a...primal memory. We miss them,” he admitted, savoring the melancholy feeling before continuing. It felt very similar to the vision. “The Lost Colony migrated off world millennia ago, and the few nests beneath the Castle Land of Alderaan only awaken every few centuries. The memory of our departed kin is...incomplete."

“I can imagine how that cycle might create a few memory gaps,” Agent remarked.

“Yes, the nest consciousness is vast, but it does have limitations,” Vector conceded.

Cipher hummed in thought before offering, “If the Citadel has any record of Killik encounters, we could find out.”

He smiled at her in surprise, not expecting such prompt aid considering how bleak her aura was overall.

“We appreciate that, Agent," he said sincerely, placing a hand over his heart for emphasis. “We don’t know if it’s important to find them, but as Dawn Herald, we’ll be waiting.”

Cipher lips curved up a little, but the expression fell as she turned away. Excusing herself, Agent left the cargo hold. He could hear the hard sole her boots clack all the way to the bridge of the Phantom. It wasn’t long after that the ship changed course. Starsigns whirled around them, and the ship sang thunderously in harmony with the universe, as it always did when streaking through hyperspace.

Several days later they exited hyperspace and stopped at suffering, bloodied Balmorra--another destination on the list. Once there, Agent and Kaliyo were quick to leave the ship. From the cargo hold, he could hear them go; Kaliyo's song as pleased as ever, Agent's decidedly less so.

While the women were gone and the ship peaceful, Vector decided to meditate. It was the perfect opportunity, considering they were in the Core Worlds. He lit the remaining incense the nest had provided in the cargo bay. The storage room was infinitely more comfortable than the shared sleeping quarters as Kaliyo’s bitter scent was less pungent. Frankly, he would have slept here had he not thought it rude.

Sitting on the floor with legs folded, Vector listened to the click of the cooling engines, the distant irregular warble of the Hive, and thought of his dreams again. Gradually, the song of the ship faded, and so did the cacophony of the spacedock beyond. The song of the Oroboro Hive became clear once more. It was truly a pleasure to be back in the Core Worlds.

Giving a content sigh, he listened to the song of his kin reverberating from neighboring Alderaan. Their thoughts brushed against his mind, pleased to have their wandering child near. The strong, familiar touch of the Kind was infinitely comforting. Deep space muted their call. How he had missed them.

‘ _...Come._ ’

The command made his breath hitch, almost breaking his trance. That was not the Oroboro Hive calling.

‘ _...Come...see._ ’

The memory of an old, loamy scent came to him again coupled with the taste of sun-drenched grasses from a planet orbiting a very familiar star. Alderaan. Home.

‘ _Where are you?_ ’ he asked. The Hive picked up his query and sang it over and over with him until an answer came.

The image fizzled to life like a spark, fading just as soon as it was birthed. In the fleeting glimpse, he managed to catch rolling plains and the tall, towering mounds that rose from of the Castle Lands. Above the lush, green hills flew ships and one great vessel large hovered high above them all, it's massive engines spouting flame against the blue sky. The Hive buzz excitedly, recalling the sight now that it had been shown to them once again--the Great Migration.

Suddenly, another image burst across the canvas of his mind--colorful tiles laid out in circles. The impression was stronger this time, clearer. The pattern looped in on itself over and over, circles within circles overlapping circles. The design was familiar; it reminded faintly of the glow galaxy map of the bridge.

‘ _...Find us…make us...one..._ ’

The vision dimmed, design becoming faint and nonsensical as the song wanned. Midnight eyes snapped open, and Vector quickly rose to his feet. He stood too fast, black dots peppered his vision, yet he doggedly rushed to his bunk to retrieve his datapad. Head still swimming with the vestiges of the old memory, he began to scribble the pattern with his finger on the screen--circles within circles overlapping circles. Suddenly, the realization came. Orbits--those were orbital ellipses! The mosaic in the vision, it must be a star map!

Song rising with nervous delight, Vector rushed to the bridge with datapad in hand. He opened the galaxy map and held his drawing up for comparison...they didn’t match. Doubt sliced through him then, but the Hive buzzed reassuringly, ‘ _Be calm. The song is incomplete_.’ Perhaps that attributed to the distortion.

Still, Vector shook his head; that was a possible answer, but only a partial one. The memory was old, possibly ancient. The true reason for the distortion was likely time. Nothing remained the same, not even the stars lived forever. The cosmos danced eternally. The cluster of galaxies on the current map had once been in different positions and continued to travel as they spun through space and time. Vector frowned, he need a more concrete memory. Maybe then he could calculate the discrepancy between the map and the vision.

Yearning for more, he returned to the cargo hold and attempted to meditate but the vision didn’t come again. Still, the Hive was pleasant to listen to none the less. They continued to replay the remembered verse of the Lost Colony and sent him the scent it carried as a suggestion, ‘ _Come and see?_ ’ The Hive felt he ought to return to Alderaan to follow the vision. He agreed.

When the women returned, he requested Agent's presence again. Kaliyo snorted at his approach and left Cipher’s side, choosing to lean against the wall in the corridor. Agent followed him to the cargo hold still reeking of bloodshed.

“Vector, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Cipher asked stopping before him, aura still bleak, but lit with sparks of curiosity.

“Agent, we’ve been having visions again. Our travels have awakened filaments of memory; we’ve been weaving them together in meditation,” he said dreamily, still able to faintly see the colorful, wavering images in his mind’s eye. “Great spitcrete vessels weep dew above the Castle Lands, their engines scorching the air. Dartship swarms shade the sky, humming a song of farewell...we remember the Great Migration when the lost nests departed Alderaan.”

“I see, you mentioned this last we spoke, “ Agent reminded.

“Yes, in our dreams, there is a mosaic that resembles the stars and shows us the lost ones’ destination,” Vector explained. He tried to mime the trajectory he saw in visions, before realizing how useless the motions were and stopped.

“It would seem something wants you to find them, I’ve never heard of someone finding a map in their sleep before,” Agent mused with a slight smile.

“We’ve come to a similar conclusion and request leave for a pilgrimage, Agent--to follow the first steps of the migrant Killiks,” he requested bluntly.

Agent regarded him for a moment, bright yellow sparks danced through her sphere in thought before answering, “You are aware of your duties here, but I will not keep you. Go, I’ll be here upon your return.”

Again, he had not expected her approval and couldn’t help but smile; the expression was almost voluntary now.

“Thank you, Agent,” Vector acknowledged with a small bow of his head. “The journey honors our kin; we’ve already packed.”

Cipher nodded in return before excusing herself. Midnight eyes watched her leave the cargo hold. It was difficult trying to understand Agent. She was a violent and dangerous woman, not unexpected from someone of her occupation. But her answers to his requests were surprising.

Despite the unknown trouble that ailed her, Agent seemed to consider what he had to say. Still, one moment she was listening to him explain the culture of the Killiks, and the next she was helping Kaliyo cross targets off her hit list. The duality was puzzling.

As he gathered his effects in the cargo bay, having collected them prior to asking, he could hear voices. From the distance, the women were talking on the bridge. When he headed toward the airlock to leave, Vector was able to hear their conversation as though in the room with them.

“Already packed, huh? Presumptuous, ain’t he. Can’t believe you said yes to that slag,” the Rattataki groused.

“Prying? How unlike you,” Agent clipped.

The women’s songs clashed.

“Look, not like it’s any of my business, but you know that hive-minded stiff is just using you to help out his bug pals, right?” Kaliyo spat.

The venom in the words made Vector stop by the airlock. He knew it was wrong of him to listen, as he was not included in the conversation. Still, he was curious, and Kaliyo was making no effort to keep her opinions quiet.

“And you aren't using me?” Agent replied without hesitation.

“Hey, hey, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. Besides, it’s not like I’ve heard any complaints outta you.” There was a pause before Kaliyo spoke again, softer this time. He envisioned the Rattataki leaning close to Agent as she said, “You can pretend to be this level-headed, accepting leader all you want around him, but we both know that ain’t true.”

“And what is the truth, Kaliyo?”

“You like to have fun, just like me,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in the Rattataki’s voice and song. "We've been having a real blast together these last couple'a days, been think’n we should celebrate on Nar Shaddaa after this is all said and done, you need a pick me up."

"We just had a holiday not long ago." Agent reminded.

"Yea, and another one's in order. You look about as worn out as my old blaster."

Silence fell. Agent gave no verbal response, but her song became noticeably sharp.

"Hey, don't give me that look."

"I’m fine,” Agent insisted.

“Uh-huh,” Kaliyo drawled in disbelief and then gave a low, rough laugh. “I mean, I know you’re _fine_ ,” she said with emphasis, and he could hear metal creak as weight was added onto one of the command chairs. “Just think you need a little loosening up is all.”

“Is that an invitation?” Agent asked voice lilting.

He was reminded of how Cipher had spoken to him on Alderaan before their first mission together.

“Sure as kriff ain’t a rejection.”

There were no more words between them, only the singing suckle of soft, wet suction. The tips of his ears burned scarlet, and Vector was startled by the innate, embarrassed reaction hearing their intimacy caused. Quickly opening the airlock, he left the ship and chastised himself for staying so long to listen on their private conversation. In the distance, Kaliyo’s laughter cackled from the bridge before the doors closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Man oh man, I tried with Vector’s visions. I really did. They don’t explain that much in swtor about what he sees, where he goes, or what happens, so I might have gotten some stuff wrong. Eh. There’s not even a cutscene for the Killik gathering sequence on Tatooine later on, what a letdown.  
> 2\. I tried to mesh in some science with the visions, but this is Star Wars, not Star Trek so your mileage and my accuracy may vary. This is all bullshit pretty much.  
> 3\. Yeah. Agent and Kaliyo have something going on. Wouldn't say it's healthy, but not much is in the IA storyline.


	8. Chapter 8

**Pit Stops Part 2: Astral Walker**

On the rolling foothills of the Castle Lands, Vector traced the steps he had seen others make in his visions centuries ago. The ancient, towering Killik mounds gleamed like beacons in the afternoon sunlight as he approached. Although the formations were legendary and had inspired many artists and poets, none but the Kind could see the full extent of their splendor. Only sensitive eyes could see how magnificently the exterior walls reflected the Alderaanian sunlight. The millions of tiny crystallized particles of sediment in the dirt, rock, and propolis, acted like tiny prisms and the age-old mounds shone like towers of iridescent glow-pearl.

When he had first Joined, the gleaming sight could hold his attention for hours; it wasn’t uncommon for new nest sisters and brothers to be found weeping in the grass over the sheer beauty. And though the old nest mounds still filled him with joy and wonder, his travels through space now granted him new insight to the beautiful structures and their makers.

The memories of the Lost Colony stirred and called out as he walked through the sun-drenched grasses, repeating the sonorous song of those who had come before and were now lost. At first, the melody had been so low and faint he’d had to mediate on the plains at the start of his pilgrimage for hours to determine the correct path. Now, as he neared the apparent take off point, the song rose to such a volume his knees began to buckle. He soon gave in and bowed to it.

Cupping his head, Vector sank to his knees under the weight of such tremendous jubilation and sorrow. The memory of the Lost Colony carried such a powerful, melancholy tune it drowned out all other sound. The droning, buzzing song filled the space of his skull until it was all he knew, all he could repeat.

It was there kneeling the dirt of the plains that the vision came. The song burst into color, weaving shimming impressions of the past. Vector’s mouth gaped in wonder as the ghostly forms of Killiks materialized around him as the memory revealed itself. Too numerous to count, the towering insectoids walked past him in time to the beat of the song. In perfect lines, the Kind headed toward the large ethereal ship now resting in the distant center of the Castle Lands.

The Killik’s forms wavered, distorted like a mirage. Some passed through his flesh like specters as they walked by. Although the memory had no true physical presence, the impression of the sensation made him shiver, gooseflesh rising on his arms. The remembered scent that clung to the Killiks was similar to his nest but was still distinctly different than the Oroboro. The smell was older, like the deep, loamy muck from the belly of Alderaan’s mountains where the elder nests made their Hives.

The crowd of ancient Killiks gathered around the ship. Those that were leaving pasted line after line of those that were to stay. Parting gifts of memborisa and incense were given. See-through feelers and forearms brushed in farewell. Ghostly mandibles fit together, sharing one final sustenance before the travelers were to leave forever. Those departing entered the great ship in single file.

The Lost Colony departed in a blast of fire, lifting away in their vessel of metorized metal, hardened propolis and membrane. The hundreds spherical pods along the ships' sides were fashioned from many crafted hexagons, making it appear like a great, flying egg chamber. Each pod belched a jet of flame as the ship rocked into the atmosphere and out of sight. The exact construction of the great ship was lost to time, its makers having disturbed the memory of the Architects on purpose to kept it a secret. No other Killik ships had ever left Alderaan, and none but the Killiks who had left on that day had ever flown in such a craft since. 

The ghostly Killiks that remained came together. Their clawed hands grasped one another's as they formed long, looping chains of bodies. In time with the song, the Killiks began to dance as one. Slowly moving in circles through the grass, the long chains began to spiral. Hand in hand, the dancing Killiks created circles within circles within circles as they moved. Although he did not know the dance, Vector began to recognize the pattern--it was a star map, the same one in the mosaic!

Joy spiked through Vector at the realization and he threw up his hands in wonder. Through song and dance, the ghostly Killiks were explaining the trajectory of the Lost Colony. The vision continued on and repeated over and over, each chorus louder than the next until he winced at the volume.

Vector gritted his teeth as the repetitious melody continued on. Covering his ears to dampen the sound, he began to realize that each chorus was slightly different, every iteration indicated another location...oh stars. The Lost Colony, it wasn’t a single group--no, the Killiks had divided. The pods, they had...they had separated once in space, each heading to another location. That was why the map was so convoluted. Time had not only passed, but the colony had split into hundreds, no, thousands of different groups. Like a broken string of veda pearls, they had flung themselves in different directions all throughout the universe, trying to find a new home.

It was too much. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. The weight of the knowledge, it wouldn’t fit. So many places, so many new worlds, so many emotions--hope, wonder, joy, sadness, and fear. The burden of it all was too great.

The Castle Lands grew to a mere pinpoint as Vector swayed on his knees, drowning in the song. The sunlight bled away until only the spectral, dancing Killiks remained circling in the grass. Then the world dimmed completely, the universe stilled, and Vector pitched forward into the grass, overcome by the sheer might of the memory.

Lying prostrate in the dirt, he woke alone in the darkness. The sun had long since set and the nightly chittering of glowbugs greeted him. Shakily climbing so his feet, Vector dusted off his grass stained robes. In the distance, the humming voice of the Hive spoke, but it seemed quiet in comparison to the powerful memory that had seized him earlier.

Despite the momentous discovery that had happened, he still felt a prickle of disappointment--he was still somewhat directionless. Where to begin? The knowledge alone promised no absolutes. He would still have to calculate the discrepancy in the map to travel to any of the locations he’d glimpsed, and even then, how feasible was that really? Furthermore, how many of the pods had survived in space? How many colonies had actually made it planetside? Agent had said she’d never found Killiks off Alderaan, and the Citadel still hadn’t got back to them.

Although the song of the Lost Colony would be cherished by him and the Hive, he’d wanted more. A physical being would have been beneficial, someone to question. It was unfortunate the ancient Killiks that remained on Alderaan were in hibernation, unable to share their memories and knowledge. He frowned and chased himself for feeling discontentment after such a discovery. The pilgrimage had offered no guarantees and had provided more information about the Lost Colony than any other memory found recently. He felt foolish for being dissatisfied, yet the feeling remained.

On foot, he traveled back across the Castle Lands toward House Thul. The pull of the Hive called him home, however, and he stopped at the entrance of the Oroboro nest. He could not bring himself to enter. It would be difficult to leave in his muddled state. The Kind guarding the entrance--a dozen warriors--came to greet him. The majority of the Hive was sleeping in the nesting chambers deep underground.

Vector offered himself to his kin with arms open, palms up. They accepted immediately. Circling around him in a cluster, they ran their antenna over the skin of his face and hands to taste the traces of his travels--kolto and disinfectant; bitter, alien compounds; and the metallic breath of distant suns. Their mandibles clicked with pleasure, enjoying all he offered as they ruffled his hair with their feelers affectionately.

In his mind, the nest consciousness sang low as the dreaming Kind called as one for him to join them in their nightly revelry. They sang of the joyful freedom sleep brought and urged him to float in the Hive synapses with them, to be one again wholly and completely. Sweetly, they promised to soothe his disappointment about the Lost Colony and sang over and over that the memory he uncovered would be treasured forever. Although he appreciated the sentiment beyond words, he could not join them. He had to return to his assignment on the Phantom.

The Hive rumbled louder in his mind, ' _A machine's metal belly is nowhere to dream. And those soft creatures housed with you--so blind, so deaf, so pitiable. Stay. Dream. Share as one tonight_.'

But Vector shook his head and was unmoved. Sharply clicking their mandibles at his refusal, the warriors prodded at him with their claws, but he merely shook his head again--the Empire came first.

The Killik’s songs changed, noticeably off key in compassion to his own now. Though they understood the benefits, the nest did not always appreciate his growing individualism. Seeing that he could not be swayed to join them, the warriors began to leave one by one. A few brushed his forearm in farewell and then they were gone. Tasting their disappointment, Vector headed back to House Thul to the spaceport alone.

When he returned to the ship, he immediately sought Agent’s audience. She greeted him affably enough and let him lead her to the holodeck. Although she listened to his tale of discovery, Cipher also seemed dissatisfied by his lack of tangible information. The yellow sparks flitting through her aura dimmed as he told her his findings. Unable to see, hear, or feel the melodious memories he had uncovered, his findings were lost on her.

“I’m sorry, Vector,” she said at last, gloved hand patting his upper arm in condolence. “I’m sure you were hoping to find more.”

“Yes, we had, but we will cherish what we have found,” he said, feeling a touch of happiness thrill through him at the sympathy. Though he shied away from the contact and folded hands behinds his back, before continuing. “We…” he stopped as a pungent, earthy scent filled his nose. Head snapping up, he looked around the holodeck room curiously; "There...there is a scent here.”

Agent’s eyes regarded him seriously, turning away only once the holocom rang. She answered it and the hologram of a young woman flared to life before them. Her dark Joiner eyes stared down at them, but the woman’s smile and song were one of welcome. The Joiner greeted them--she was Daizanna of the lesei nest from Tatooine.

Agent glanced at him and Vector could feel the burning curiously in her orange gaze. From his peripheral, he noted that yellow sparks danced through her field more vividly than before.

“How about you handle this,” she prompted, turning the conversation over to him for which he was grateful.

Daizanna explained how her kin had discovered them. The scent was from her Kind was familiar because their kin had once been one. This nest had departed from Alderaan during the great migration! This, this was part of the Lost Colony! His song soared as Daizanna spoke and the Hive’s song reverberated joyously through his mind. The sudden swell of emotions made Vector placed a hand over his thundering heart to center himself--part of the Lost Colony had been found!

“She offers dancing and membrosia, a chance to walk through the synapse of the Hive,” he said wilfully, nearly swaying on his feet from the sheer pleasure of this moment.

“You are welcome to join us as the Dawn Herald’s companion,” Daizanna addressed Agent.

Cipher did not answer right away. Her aura was still murky, but he was learning not to gauge her reactions by it alone, as Agent often acted contradictory of her emotions as of late.

“How could I say no?” She replied sounding sincere. “It would be a privilege to attend.”

“Excellent, don’t worry we will have you back before the pheromones can bond to your system,” he assured with a smile.

Agent input the coordinates Daizanna had given them and the Phantom fired toward Tatooine. Notified by the movement of the ship, Kaliyo made her way to the bridge to join them, though she seemed surprised to see him in Agent’s company.

“Tatooine, huh? You ready for another one so soon?” Kaliyo asked with a glint her eye, pink blooming in the core of her aura.

“Later, Vector and I have some business to attend to first,” Agent answered briskly.

Kaliyo arched an eyebrow as red began to bleed into the core of her field.

“A date and the desert, eh?” The Rattataki sounded teasing, but her aura showed no trace of joy or humor.

“Call it what you will, we’ll be back,” Agent replied.

He wondered if she knew what her words did to the Rattataki, total red simmered in Kaliyo’s core now.

“Don’t come back to me sprouting antenna,” Kaliyo snipped. “I’ll shoot’em off.”

“Not planning on it,” Agent said and turned to look at him. “Vector, I expect you to be ready to leave when we land.”

“Of course,” he answered with a nod.

Agent returned the gesture and headed to her room. When she was out of sight, angry gray eyes fixed on him. Mouth set in a sour frown, Kaliyo muttered something in a tongue he didn’t understand before sneering and stalking off toward the ship's bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this chapter makes any sense. Too tired to care right now.
> 
> 1\. I wanted Vector's interaction with the Oroboro to be different than when he left. He's changing and while the Hive isn't comfortable with it and displays that, they understand that it's beneficial to them overall.  
> 2\. Vector's the kind of character that's always going to be stuck in the threshold, forever be trying to bridge the gap between humanity, Killiks, while being dutiful to the Empire. Kinda like how Spock has to find harmony with his Vulcan/human heritage while staying true to Starfleet.  
> 3\. And I’ve been supplementing cannon Killik info with knowledge about bees again. Bees dance to show each other where to find food. I like to think the Killiks do something similar but on a grand, intergalactic scale to give each other directions. Then they make giant mosaic maps of it. Cool? Cool. Bring in the dancing Killiks.  
> 4\. This is probably the last chapter for a while. Need to work on the Tatooine scene. Let me know your thoughts.


End file.
